Phir wahi dil

As I made the bed this morning, loath to waste even five minutes to a mundane job, I played on YouTube the superlative ‘Aawaz deke humein tum bulao’. Just under five minutes and it sucked me into a vortex of nostalgia. 

Movies in India have morphed so much. There are grim, dreary, bleak reflections of society, there are political statements, social statements… always, always pontificating on something or the other; revealing the underbelly of something or the other, taking a stand on something or the other. In a sense, they have all become very masculine: hard, primarily concerned with the outside, with the larger picture; rather than feminine, which is soft, and more about the particular, the subjective and individual experience.

Are we never to see any particular stories about human beings anymore? Or for that matter even a genuine lip-sync song? Have we been embarrassed out of our natural and spontaneous musicals? It seems the only songs that are sung out are those performed on stage, or item songs. The rest are background scores. Am I wrong?

I don’t remember the plot of ‘Professor’ and don’t remember the context for this intensely romantic song set in Raga Shivaranjani. How inspired were Shankar-Jaikishan with this one… the faintly ominous large drum in the beginning, yielding space to the tabla and Lata Mangeshkar’s soaring voice… The song pulls you in, makes you wonder what is up with these two people…
How wonderful would it be if we could have such mellow, romantic stories made with all the wonderful filmmaking techniques and technology we have today!


 

***

I was discussing this with my sister the other day. How is it that OTT platforms, which have mushroomed in such large numbers, have not yet tapped into this wonderful bank of old classics in any language? Where are the Hitchcocks, the Gene Kelly musicals, the b/w favourites? The Shammi Kapoor hits, the Joy Mukherjee must-watches, the Best of Dev Anand, Dilip Kumar, Filmfare awardees of 4-5 decades ago? Where are the Telugu mythologicals and socials? I don’t know about the economics in connection with Hollywood fare, but surely Indian goldies must be low hanging fruit? 

Maybe they'll get there eventually?

Ram naam ras paan

Kumarji has been an acquired taste for me. Although I’d hear some pieces repeatedly, the unique aesthetic that he crafted escaped me with the more technical renditions. But he’s grown on me over the years. During the Samyama program (one of the advanced programs at Isha), they played on loop a few Nirguni bhajans by him. In the state I was in – open, empty – my Master seeped into me in Kumar Gandharva’s voice.

For a few days now I’ve had this earworm. Raga Kalyan in which Kumarji sings a small tukda from Ramcharitmanas. A gorgeous gorgeous piece. Someone in the comments elucidates that the whole verse goes like this:

देखराबा मातहिं निज अद्भुत रूप अखंड।
रोम रोम प्रति लगो कोटि कोटि ब्रह्माँड॥
अगनित रवि शशि सिव चतुरानन।
बहुगिरि सरित सिंधु महिकानन॥
काल कर्म गुन ग्यान सुभाऊ।
सोउ देखा जो सुना न काऊ॥

This, I understand, is from an episode from the Baal Kanda, where Kaushalya is given a glimpse of the Lord’s vishvaroopa:

She saw therein countless suns and moons, Sivas and four-faced Brahmas, and a number of mountains, rivers, oceans, plains and woods, as well as the spirit of time, the principle of action, the modes of Prakrti (Sattva, Rajas and Tamas), the spirit of knowledge and Nature and many more things of which she had never heard before.
(Translation from Ramcharitmanas.org)

Of Krishna’s vishwaroopa darshanam I had heard many times but I had not known that Tulsidasji describes Rama showing his mother the Truth as well.

Listening to these four lines leaves me in a jumble of replete bliss scrubbed in with shades of longing, regret, and a certain grasping greed. If four lines, taken out of context can be so beautiful, the mind wishes to acquire all of Ramcharitmanas. It doesn’t work that way, but that is the mind’s way.

Anyway, here it is, Kumar Gandharva with Aganita Ravi:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cyWhNcKGmHY

Bin Sataguru aapno nahi koi

This Guru Poornima, sharing this exquisitely imagined and executed song video from Sounds of Isha.

Kabir, singing again in the female voice of the seeker, says the comforts of the maternal home will no longer do. The maternal home, traditionally considered to be among the most secure and comfortable places to be... where you are well looked after, where you are pampered, allowed the freedom to simply be. But even this haven will not do.

There is a 'nagari'...  Saeein ki nagari, the Master's Realm, where none of these physical symbols apply - no sun, no moon, no elements that make up our physical world... she seeks that place.

 

Who would tell the beloved of my longing? Who would show my the way? Who would take me there? 

Presenting Naiharwa...

https://youtu.be/5h2566_fTDw

 

Nan anju maram valarthen…

It was borne on me a couple of days ago that I’d been living under a rock. Completely unaware of a viral song, Enjoy Enjaami, a production from AR Rahman’s initiative Maajja – a tech platform for independent musicians. (And what a start!)

My friend Sriram introduced the song to us with a bit of a backgrounder. The poet-singer Arivu draws from his own life and the accounts told to him by his grandmother – tales of humble farm workers employed on lands that they did not themselves own. Lives sweetened with the joy that being close to the land brings, but also insecurity and a looming fear and dread of being dispossessed. 

The song has caught me by the gut. It is so many things at once – on the surface a catchy, well-made music video that ticks all the ‘good entertainment’ boxes. But also a powerful song celebrating the earth, a lament for old griefs, a tribute to ancestors who bequeathed their precious seed and land to us.

Like all hugely successful things, many aspects come together to make this work. Santosh Narayan composes it in intricate layers, weaving in parai drums, reggae, rap and a Tamil art form called oppari. Singer Dhee is a revelation with her raspy airs and Arivu clutches your heart with the keening lament of the oppari. The video by Amit Krishnan accentuates the beat, the lilt and places the song in its natural surroundings – the land. The effect is simply stunning.

This is a quintessentially Tamil song, about the Tamil people’s deep and profound connection to the soil, water and all creatures. It reminds me of what Sadhguru says about ‘looking up’ and ‘looking down’ cultures. The Tamil people exemplify the second sort – those who look down at the Earth as mother, as the source of their sustenance and all divinity. 

 

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Nan anju maram valarthen is from this song, translating 'I planted five trees...'

Faizbaksh Din

I was changing computers and the move threw up the inevitable dust. There were many finds, many things I had not needed in years, but which I have carried on anyway into a new home, in the vague hope that some day, a good cleaning will happen and I will live a light life.

In a folder hardly visited, I found a recording I had made - on some afternoon that my sister remembers better than I do. It was a recital of Faiz's Yad also known as Dasht-e-Tanhai.

I cannot even remember if it was before or after my mother's passing. But I know it was a phase drenched with the syrup of Urdu poetry. In 2011, we took a short course called Tehseen-e-Ghazal - to learn how to appreciate that beautiful form. What a joy it was! I had encountered Faiz before then, but the course served to immerse us, steep us in his luminous words.

Here is the nazm in Devnagri:

दश्त-इ-तन्हाई में ऐ जान-ए-जहां लरज़ाँ है
तेरी आवाज़ के साये तेरे होंठों के सराब
दश्त-ए-तन्हाई में दूरी के ख़स-ओ-ख़ाक़ तले
खिल रहे हैं तेरे पहलू के समन और गुलाब 
उठ रही है कहीं क़ुर्बत से तेरी सांस की आंच
अपनी खुशबू में सुलगती हुई मद्धम मद्धम
दूर उफ्फाक़ पर चमकती हुई क़तरा क़तरा
गिर रही है तेरी दिलदार नज़र की शबनम

इस क़दर प्यार से ऐ जान-ए-जहां रख्खा है
दिल के रुखसार पे इस वक़्त तेरी याद ने हाथ
यूँ गुमां होता है गरचे है अभी सुबह-ए-फ़िराक
ढल गया हिज्र का दिन, आ भी गयी वस्ल की रात 

Transliterated in English:

Dasht-e-tanhai mein ae jaan-e-jahan larzan hai
Teri awaaz ke saaye, tere honton ke saraab
Dasht-e-tanhai mein doori ke khas-o-khaak talé
Khil rahen hain tere pehlu ke saman aur gulaab
Uth rahi hai kahin qurbat se teri saans ki aanch
Apni khushboo mein sulagti hui madham madham
Door uffaq par chamkati hui qatra qatra
Gir rahi hai teri dildaar nazar ki shabnam
Iss qadar pyar se ae jaan-e-jahaan rakhha hai
Dil ke rukhsar pe iss waqt teri yaad ne haath
Yun guman hota hai garche hai abhi subh-e-firaaq
Dhal gaya hijr ka din aa bhi gayi vasl ki raat

And a fine translation by Ayesha Khanna:

In the desert of my solitude, oh love of my life, quiver
the shadows of your voice,
the mirage of your lips

In the desert of my solitude,
beneath the dust and ashes of distance
bloom the jasmines and roses of your proximity

From somewhere very close,
rises the warmth of your breath
smouldering in its own aroma,
slowly, bit by bit.

far away, across the horizon, glistens
drop by drop
the falling dew of your beguiling glance

With such tenderness, O love of my life,
on the cheek of my heart,
has your memory placed its hand right now

that it looks as if
(though it’s still the dawn of adieu)
the sun of separation has set
and the night of union has arrived.

Anyway, now that I have retrieved this recording, I've pumped up the volume a bit, so here it is:

Sheetal Vyas

Andaz-e-bayan aur!

Know what I've been tripping on this past month?

Ghawwalis! (ugh, I know, I know!)

Rahat Fateh Ali Khan and group have sung a whole lot of ghazals by Ghalib as qawwalis and what fun they are!

As it happens with qawwalis, they sing the main ghazal through but now and then pick up key words from the preceding sher and intersperse with couplets from elsewhere, either stressing the sentiment, or taking off from it on another tangent altogether.

These are the efforts, I understand, of Yousuf Salahuddin, culture-lover from Lahore, under a series called Virsa Heritage Revived

I share here two videos:
1) Rahat and co singing Koi umeed bar nahin aati



2) A full concert called Nawa-e-sarosh with four qawwalis



Caution: Dost ghamkhwari mein meri is a potential ear-worm! I haven't thrown it off in days.

Appa deepo bhava

"Mann se Ravan jo nikale Ram uske mann mein hai...”

I woke up with this line ticker-taping through my mind yesterday morning. A sub-conscious reminder that it was Deepavali perhaps, but there was no very coherent train of thought leading to or away from Javed Akhtar’s words in Swades.

It is a traditional, oft-repeated sentiment, of course. That, for Ram to reign, Ravan must go. And typically, as we tend to do in India, sophisticated ideas and concepts get distilled into names, into personifications – powerful receptacles and representatives of everything that the dialectical process that preceded it bestows upon them.

Naraka Chaturdashi is named for a powerful and evil man who met his death at the hands of Krishna – and realised, in his dying moments, what a fool he had been. In a message for this day, Sadhguru says that what happened centuries ago can’t surely be relevant to us but we mark it because we must remember – now rather than on the death bed – to purge ourselves of negativity. Consciously sit down and remove accumulations, prejudices that have gathered when we weren’t looking.

In today’s Deccan Chronicle, Swati Chopra writes that in his dying hours, his disciples asked Gautama, the Buddha, for one last teaching. He uttered: “Appa deepo bhava!” Be lamps unto yourselves.

She says:

This Deepawali as we light our homes, let us take a moment to think about the inner illumination the Buddha pointed to in his last words. How might we become lamps unto ourselves? There are two points of emphases in this statement — “lamps” and “yourselves”. In saying “unto yourselves”, the teacher is laying the responsibility of working towards enlightenment upon the student. Do not think of the teacher as the one who will illuminate you. Do not outsource your spiritual work. The teacher can point towards the path; it is you who has to actually walk on it. Thus, the dying Buddha asks his students to look beyond him, the form of the teacher, which will die soon. The real illuminant is within.

+++

This song, Ishq di booṭi, from Coke Studio Season 6 is very special to me. I love every note, every detail of the arrangement, I love the words and I am blown away every single time by the climax. Written by the singer Abrar-ul-Haq himself, there is one succinct passage that tells you what you must do to advance.

The song is laid upon an imagery that was invoked by the Sufi mystic-poet Sultan Bahu:

Alif Allah chambey di booṭi Murshad man vich laayi hoo...
My Master has planted in my heart a jasmine plant... in the name of the primordial one...

That ‘chambey di booti’ is very precious seed, from which the spiritual quest begins. It must be looked after, it must be nourished, it must become the focal point of your life. When that plant grows, when it blossoms... there is havoc but oh, “jaan phullan te aayi hoo” – the very life-breath comes aflutter, Bahu says.

Abrar-ul-Haq goes further with the horticultural theme:

dil di kheti de wich pahlaan niyat da hal waah
khoṭ adaawat nafrat jhagṛe saare maar muka
nafs jiya dushman wi koi naeen, zahr da ṭeekah la
laalach badla hasad kameenah choolhe de wich pa
ishq di goḍi kar ke te hanjuaan da paani pa
te booṭi beej lai
chambe waali booṭi beej lai
haq wali booṭi beej lai

First plough the field of your heart with your sincere intention
Falseness, enmity, hatred, strife: send them packing!
There is no enemy like your own ego – feed it some poison
Greed, revenge and envy are vile – cast them into the fire
Cultivate the field of love, water it with your own tears
And sow the seed!
Sow the seed of the jasmine flower!
Sow the seed of Truth!

The CS video is here, but I recommend closed eyes.

Man laago mero yaar...

I have most fun, I've found, in the throes of an obsession. When I'm hung up on one song, or chasing the meaning behind a haunting, intriguing piece of poetry in a language I have no access to.

Last week it was Adi Shankara. I had heard 'Guru Ashtakam' before but I had not engaged with it as I did now. How direct is this saint-poet, how severe, how unequivocal! In Bhaja Govindam, he begins by chiding: "Chant Govinda, you fool!" 

I am slain by his conviction, the force of his statements... and I lean on him, borrowing – no, taking – from his unshakeable stance some strength for my own shaky base. He is right, he is right! there is no other way to be! No use being turned in any direction but this...

Here are the eight verses as rendered by the wonderful Uma Mohan and group (who have my gratitude for their offerings that come with perfect enunciation and a proper respect for the material. This one is a bit over-orchestrated arrangement-wise but it's grown on me).

https://youtu.be/M9DZ_-K5gTA

Sareeram suroopam thatha va kalatram,
Yashaschaaru chithram dhanam meru thulyam,
Manaschena lagnam Gurorangri padme
Thatha kim? Thatha kim? Thatha kim? Thatha kim?

A beautiful body you may have, and a wife as beautiful,
Great fame and a heap of money the equal of Mt Meru,
But if your mind does not bow at the lotus-feet of the Guru...
Oh, what is the use? What is the use? What is the use? What is the use?

Kalatram dhanam puthrapothradhi sarvam
Gruham baandhava sarvamethadhi jaatham
Manaschena lagnam Gurorangri padme
Thatha kim? Thatha kim? Thatha kim? Thatha kim?

A wife, wealth, children, grandchildren and all
A house, relations, birth in a great clan,
But if your mind does not bow at the lotus-feet of the Guru...
What is the use? What is the use? What is the use? What is the use? 

Shadangadhi vedo mukhe saastra vidhya
Kavithwadhi gadhyam supadhyam karoti
Manaschenna lagnam Gurorangri padme
Thatha kim? Thatha kim? Thatha kim? Thatha kim?

Knowledge of the six angas etc; Vedashastras at the tip of your tongue,
Expertise in the composition of fine poetry and prose...
But if your mind does not bow at the lotus-feet of the Guru
Then what is the use? What is the use? What is the use? What is the use?!

And he goes on thus... dissing our 'accomplishments', what we think of as our successes, piercing the bubble of self-satisfaction. Nothing is worth anything unless you have turned that way, and sent your mind to stick like glue at the Guru-Charan.

It reminded me of a fairly stark statement I came across recently:

The only useful purpose of the present birth is to turn within and realise the Self... There is nothing else to do.

That is Ramana Maharshi speaking.

They've all been saying the same thing, over and over, haven't they?

==========

I had more ear-worms to speak about but this post is laden already. Next time, perhaps.

विनती

सूर कहे, श्याम सुनो... शरण है तिहारे
अब के बार पार करो, नंद के दुलारे...

In Twos and Threes

As always, stuff comes in twos and threes.

Earlier this week, I was reminded of Shiv Kumar Batalvi’s heart-wrenching Maaye ni maaye main shikra yaar banaya. I had read an excerpt from the much-praised H is for Hawk, Helen Macdonald’s account of a goshawk she raised. It sounds fascinating and I can’t wait to read it.

Batalvi, experienced perhaps in loving wild things and having them leave him, is enamoured of the hawk in this poem. He says:

Choori kuTaaN
Te o khaaNda naaheeN
Uhnu dil da maas khavaaiya
Ik uDaari aesi maari
O muR vatani na aaiya

I crushed choori, but he would not eat it.
So I fed him the flesh of my heart...
He took flight, and such a flight it was
That he never turned this way again...
Oh, I befriended a hawk, mother!

Jagjit Singh sings a melancholy version of this poem here:



And while on this, I found something else. Jagjit Singh singing Batalvi again and this one, the utterly pathetic Maaye ni maaye mere geetan ne nainan vich...
I clung to this song for a while, when I was grieving my mother’s death so intensely a few years ago.

Aakh su ni kha laye Tuk
HijaraaN da pahkiya,
LekhaaN de ni puTHaRe tave!
Chat laye tarel looni
GhamaaN de gulaab toN ni,
Kaalaje nu hausala rave!

Tell him, mother, to swallow the bread
Of separation.
He is fated to mourn.
Tell him to lick the salty dew
On the roses of sorrow,
And stay strong.

Although I still love Nusrat’s version best, here is (a very young) Jagjit Singh giving it a shot:



___
Translations are from Suman Kashyap, or based on her translations.

To the Reclining Lord

Saagara shayana vibho...

I've just heard three versions of this lovely composition in Bageshree by MD Ramanathan. That's the way to best acquaint myself with a song, I've found - find the lyrics, translation and exposition, and follow each singer through the nuances. It's a fun exercise.

I'll include one of them here: this croony rendition by TM Krishna.